


missing you like hurricanes

by goofball46



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Time Travel, F/F, No Superheroes AU, exes au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-03-12 05:10:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13540371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goofball46/pseuds/goofball46
Summary: sara and ava were in love once. and then it was over, just like that. like they hadn't been dating for years. like they were nothing serious. ava left and sara disappeared and that was that. except sara's back in town and ava's working at the law firm above her and it seems like they can't avoid each other anymore. ft. zari in the background pining over amaya.aka the avalance exes au no one asked for (also time travel isn't a thing here sorry)





	1. show a little mercy

It’s Sara’s third day on the job when she runs into her. Literally runs into her, nearly spilling coffee all over her navy blue pantsuit but managing to save it just in time.

“Sorry,” is all she can manage once she realizes who’s standing in front of her, half a foot taller than her, hair up in a tight bun, blue eyes as bright as ever, looking exactly like she did two years ago, leaving their apartment for the last time.

“What are you doing here?” is Ava’s less-than-polite response, and it almost makes Sara flinch at how familiar that tone is.

“I got back in town a week ago. I work here now.”

“You’re working for my firm?”

“Uh, no. I guess you guys share the building with the gym downstairs. I’m working as a trainer there for now.”

Ava bites the inside of her cheek, her expression giving nothing away.

“I saw you made partner,” Sara offers, when the silence stretches uncomfortably long. “Congrats.”

“We don’t have to do this, Sara.”

“Do what?”

“This…” Ava waves a hand between them. “Pretending to be friends. We don’t have to do the small talk and catching up.”

“Okay, then.” Sara gives her a tight smile. “I should get to work.”

“Me, too.” And then Ava is brushing past her and disappearing down the hall, leaving Sara to chug her coffee and replay the interaction in her head until she thinks she’s going insane.

The new job is a mix of one-on-one work and classes, and since it’s still the first week, most of her work is running classes until she has a chance to set up some personal training sessions with the members. Her first class that day is an introductory kickboxing class, which at least distracts her from Ava. It’s mostly young women, college kids learning how to defend themselves since they’re moving to the city. She moves around, correcting form and demonstrating different types of punches and kicks. One girl is tucking her thumb in a way that could break it if she were to actually hit anything, and Sara shows her how to do it safely. Another girl has some real potential, especially once Sara sees her legwork, and she invites her to join a martial arts class that she teaches on Thursdays.

The class is only an hour and a half long, so Sara busies herself by wandering around the main floor of the gym and putting back weights that people left on the machines. It’s always slow during the day, but there are a couple retired guys lifting weights, so she goes over to make sure none of them kill themselves on the bench press. She has a personal training session in the afternoon with a girl she met on the floor on her first day, a friendly girl named Jenna who took a liking to her when she spotted her on the bench press and asked for an individual session.

She’s set up an extensive arm routine for her, and demonstrates the different machines she wants her to use before getting her started. Something about working out has always made Sara feel _good_ , a pleasant stretch warming her arms and making her feel satisfied. Jenna has a long way to go to get where she wants, but she does what Sara says without complaining, and Sara respects her dedication.

But once the session is over, Sara’s off the clock, and that invites thoughts of Ava and their morning interaction. It doesn’t help knowing that Ava’s only a few floors above her, probably reading some case and coming up with a bulletproof case for her client’s innocence. Ava was always going to be a great lawyer, and she deserves the success she’s received. And _God_ , Sara can’t be here right now, thinking about how close she is, so she hits the employee lockers to change. She takes a quick shower, turning the water so hot that her feet turn red (a preference Ava always hated, she recalls, but then again, Ava had liked cold showers, so her opinion on ideal shower temperature really didn’t count). She dries off and slips into a pair of skinny jeans and a henley before leaving and heading over to her favorite restaurant, where Zari works at the bar. It’s just before the dinner rush should be starting, so Zari should be starting her shift. She could really use a drink, and it helps that the best bartender in town happens to be one of her closest friends.

“Hey, Z,” she says, seating herself at the bar.

“You look like a wreck,” Zari greets her, pouring her a beer before she says anything. “What’s up?”

“I don’t even know if I want to talk about it.”

“Uh-oh. That bad?”

“I saw Ava today.” Sara takes a long drink from the beer as Zari processes that information.

“Um, excuse me, _what?_ Ava-Ava? As in the girl who broke your heart?”

Sara winces. “Okay, she didn’t _break my heart._ Don’t be overdramatic.”

“What is she even doing in Star City? Didn’t she move to Central City?”

“I guess she moved back.”

“What’s she doing now?”

“Still a lawyer. She made partner.” Sara chooses not to mention that this information comes from a late-night Facebook-stalking session a few months ago rather than their conversation today. “Her firm is right above the gym, because of course it is.”

“Yikes.” Zari makes a face. “You want something stronger?”

Sara shrugs and lets Zari fix her a mixed drink as she finishes off the beer. “She didn’t want to talk, either. I literally ran into her going in this morning and she didn’t want to talk. Which is ridiculous, right? I mean, what gives _her_ the right to be the one who doesn’t want to talk? I should be the one to get to say I don’t want to talk to her.”

“ _Do_ you want to talk to her, babe? Because it kinda sounds like you do.”

“Of course not. I’m over her. It’s been years. It’s just… weird seeing her again, I guess.”

Zari gives her an undecipherable look, but doesn’t say anything.

“What about you? How was your day?”

Zari grins. “I’ve decided what I’m getting Amaya for her birthday.”

“Finally,” Sara teases.

“Don’t be judgy, Sara, it’s not a good look on you.”

“Oh, please. Everything’s a good look on me.” Zari rolls her eyes and Sara grins into her drink. “Anyways, what is it?”

Zari launches into this whole explanation of how she’s going to take Amaya on what essentially amounts to several different dates in one day, from the aquarium, to a zoo where one of the zookeepers owes her a favor so they can get in after hours and get close to some of the animals, to hiking with a picnic on the top of the mountain, and Sara lets her ramble. Zari’s not usually one to gush, and would be horribly offended if Sara ever called her out on it, but she’s totally smitten for Amaya, and it’s obvious.

“Z, you know that no matter how great your gift is, she’s still in love with Nate, right?”

Zari’s face falls slightly, and Sara almost feels bad for saying it. “What does Pretty Boy have that I don’t, anyways?”

“Pretty Boy? You’ve been spending too much time with Mick.”

“I’m serious. Okay, sure, he’s some fancy history professor, but still. I’m way hotter than him, I’m way less boring, way less annoying…”

“Absolutely. And if Amaya weren’t straight, I’m sure she’d be all over you.”

“And we’re sure she’s straight?”

Sara smirks. “I’ve known her since we were little kids. Trust me, I’ve tried. She’s straight.”

“Maybe she’s just immune to your charms. She’ll fall in love with me someday, I guarantee. And anyways, better to pine over the most beautiful straight girl I’ve ever met than a bitchy ex-girlfriend.”

“Ugh, go back to talking about your gross crush. I’m officially over talking about Ava.”

The restaurant is progressively getting busier as they hit the peak of their dinner rush, so Zari leaves Sara to help other customers. “You need to forget about her,” is all she says when she comes back to see Sara staring into her drink.

“I need to get laid,” is the conclusion Sara draws from that, to which Zari shakes her head with an exhasperated _“That’s not what I meant and you know it_ ,” but Sara doesn’t really care what Zari actually _meant_. It’s true, she justifies to herself. She hasn’t had a careless one night stand since that one month right after the break up, when she spent her nights getting too drunk and sleeping with the nearest warm body to avoid thinking about anything.

The dinner rush fades into the night crowd, and it’s not long before a girl comes up and buys Sara a round of shots. Sara smiles at the sound of a pretty voice, and downs the shot before turning to look at her. The girl is shorter than she is, with dark wavy hair, and dark eyes, and looks almost-but-not-quite like Nyssa in a way that makes Sara’s chest tighten with memories.

She turns her down for that exact reason, avoids eye contact with a number of leggy blondes for the same reason, and ends up back in the apartment of some muscular guy whose name she doesn’t remember, who’s eager to please and whose name she’s already forgotten. And she doesn’t think about Ava until he’s already snoring next to her, which makes it a win in her book.

Except then she’s replaying every single second of their relationship in her mind. Their first kiss. Their first fight. Moving in together. Ava leaving her at the end of everything, looking unfairly pretty as she left, wearing that goddamn pantsuit. Ava showing up a week later, completely impassive while Sara was falling apart, handing back the key to their – no, _her_ apartment. Sara calling Gary one night when she drank too much and asking him how Ava was doing before threatening him in case he thought about letting any of their conversation get back to her.

God, they had been a mess. _Sara_ had been a mess. And somehow, two years later, a thirty second run-in can have her feeling like it all happened a second ago, like Sara never moved on.

The more she thinks about it, the more she’s starting to think that Zari might actually have been _right_ when she claimed Ava broke her heart, which Sara absolutely will not allow. Sara’s not really a heartbreak kinda gal unless she’s the one doing the heartbreaking, and she’s already had her one big heartbreak. Nyssa was more than enough, and Sara certainly was not the type to get her heart broken by a stuffy lawyer whose head was too far up her ass to let herself have fun. And wasn’t this line of thought exactly what she had slept with this guy to avoid?

He adjusts in the bed next to her, one slightly sweaty arm moving to drape across her waist. It’s heavy and not quite pleasant, and she pushes him away. Exhaustion is seeping into her body, and she lets herself fall asleep.

* * *

She wakes up with a hangover from hell, and the guy’s snoring isn’t making the pounding in her head any better. A glance at the alarm clock on his night stand tells her that it’s almost 6:45 in the morning, so she gently pushes his arm off of her, tugging back on the jeans and shirt she was wearing the night before. Her hair is a mess, so she pushes it into a haphazardly messy ponytail and shoves on her shoes before making her escape.

She doesn’t have enough cash to call a cab, and her phone is too dead to call an Uber, so she walks instead. It’s not too far, fortunately, and she knows the city well enough that the route back to her block is muscle memory, her feet taking her in the right direction without too much thinking. The rising sun is obnoxiously bright, and she regrets not swiping a pair of sunglasses from the guy’s apartment before she left. It’s almost 7:30 by the time she gets back to her street, and she’s not going to make it through the day without some coffee, so she skips going back to her apartment in favor of the coffeeshop next door. The bell on the inside of the door jingles as she pushes it open, and she wants to murder whoever thought it was a good idea to put something so loud and piercing on a door.

The teenager at the register takes her order and she slides into a stool to wait for it. She can see the hint of her reflection on the glass at the bar, and realizes what she looks like. Her ponytail is a disaster, and mascara from the night before is smudged in black clouds under her eyes. She tugs the hair tie loose to try to fix her hair, and as she’s raking her fingers through it, the door jingles again. Her eyes slide to the door without much thought, and her heart sinks when she realizes who it is.

Ava hasn’t seen her, fortunately, and she strides up to the register and orders without missing a beat. Sara slumps down in her stool as she finishes fixing her hair, keeping an eye on Ava to make sure she doesn’t see her.

Ava looks beautiful, if the exact same as yesterday. Her eyes look tired, something Sara only knows thanks to almost three years of living with her, seeing her at the end of every bad day. It’s the kind of tired that Sara used to resolve with a massage, letting Ava talk about everything bothering her, and then sex good enough to make her forget everything, before falling asleep curled up together in their bed.

It’s a jarring thought to have now, in the middle of a coffeeshop years later, not-quite hiding from her. Ava still hasn’t noticed her, and Sara’s thinking she might actually be able to get out of here without an awkward confrontation when her name is suddenly being shouted across the shop.

She waits until they call out her name a third time to finally slink up past Ava and grab the cup.

“Sara?” Ava asks.

They spelled her name wrong. S-A-R-A-H rather than S-A-R-A. She rubs her thumb over the hastily Sharpied-on H and takes a deep breath before turning and facing Ava.

“Hi,” she offers, giving her a two-fingered wave. Ava frowns.

“Are you okay?”

“Sorry?” Sara squints at her. Ava gestures to her own face, and Sara groans internally. “Um, yeah. Fine. Just a late night.” She rubs at the make-up under her eyes with an awkward huff of uncomfortable laughter. Ava takes a second to understand the implication, but when she does, her entire face tightens slightly.

“Ah. Of course.” She adjusts her position, and all Sara can think is that it’s really fucking unfair that she has to run into her ex when she’s looking and feeling like crap while Ava’s looking nothing less than radiant. Some god somewhere must really hate her.

It’s just awkward now, standing in front of each other with nothing to say, and there’s a pang of hurt in Sara’s chest that they ended up like this. Essentially strangers, unable to manage the most basic small talk. Ava’s eyes keep searching Sara’s face, and Sara would give anything to know what she’s thinking. The teenager behind the register calls out Ava’s name, breaking the silence, and Ava turns to the counter to take it.

“Well, I have work,” Ava says, giving Sara a tight smile.

“Yeah. Bye,” Sara says, and Ava maintains eye contact for a moment longer before walking out. Sara exhales heavily, collapsing back into her stool and taking a burning hot sip from her coffee.

* * *

It doesn’t take Sara long to figure out Ava’s schedule. They run into each other at the coffeeshop on Thursday, and by Tuesday of the following week, she’s pretty sure she has it down. Ava’s up every morning around 5 to go for a run, something that Sara discovered when a car alarm going off wakes her up early and she goes to her window to see what’s up, only to be distracted by the sight of Ava in skin tight leggings and a tank top, lacing her sneakers on the sidewalk before standing and taking off. She comes back sometime after this to change, and is always at the coffeeshop by 7:35 so she can get her coffee before going into work at 7:50.

It’s convenient knowledge to have, given Sara’s determination to avoid her, but intersects with Sara’s usual routine in the most annoying way. Sara has to get up early to get in and get her own coffee during the 7:00 to 7:30 window when Ava is at her place getting ready for work. She has to either go into work early or late to avoid walking into the building at the same time as Ava. It’s causing real problems, and she’s starting to wonder if it’s even worth it to continue avoiding her this religiously.

It’s not foolproof, either, since the slightest change to Ava’s routine means Sara runs into her. Ava stops to talk to her assistant on the way in, and Sara bumps into her walking into work. The line at the coffeeshop is too long, and Sara waits in front of her, silence heavy between them. It’s frustrating, especially since they’ve settled into a silent game where neither wants to be the first to say something.

They run into each other again at work on Friday morning. Ava barely reacts, her face emotionless. Sara’s in a foul mood anyway, since she woke up late and had to rush, and running through this whole act where they pretend nothing ever happened between them sounds the opposite of appealling right now.

“You don’t get to do this,” she tells Ava.

“Do what?”

“No, fuck you. You walked out on me and didn’t even tell me why. You just _left_. So you don’t get to walk around like that and hate me. Why are you even here? What possible reason would you come back to Star City?”

Ava’s jaw tenses, and Sara feels a surge of confidence at having gotten under her skin. “I have a job to do,” she says. “I don’t have time for this.” She turns away and starts down the hall and Sara scoffs.

“Yeah, walk away. Leave. That’s what you’re good at, right?”

Ava freezes, and Sara almost regrets saying it. “Go to work, Sara,” Ava says. Her voice is cold and Sara doesn’t have it in her to respond.

She takes out her anger at the gym, attacking her self defense training dummy with everything she’s got. She’s sweaty and sore by the end of it, and she needs to get the room ready for a kick-boxing class in an hour, so she gives herself three minutes to lay on floor, chest heaving with exhertion, sweat pouring back from her face into her ponytail, before standing to set up the room.

She stays until the gym closes at 9. It’s a Friday, so it’s busy with people until closing, and it gives her something to focus on. A school swim team comes in to use the pool and weights, and she helps spot the tenth graders at the bench press while their coach watches them in the pool. It’s easy. It’s distracting.

She clocks out before heading into the locker room, taking a fast shower before changing and checking her phone. She’s missed some texts from Zari, who was just confirming their plans for the night, so she shoots her back a text saying she’s ready and heads out to wait for her.

It’s Amaya’s birthday. Zari picks Sara up after work, and they go to Nate and Amaya’s place right away. Ray’s car is already in the parking lot of their It’s Amaya who answers the door once Sara and Zari have made their way up the seven flights of stairs to her door, and she gives them both a big hug when she sees them.

“Ray and Nate are fighting with Mick in the kitchen, so we might want to steer clear,” she advises them, and Zari laughs harder than she should.

“Happy birthday, babe,” she tells her, and Amaya gives her a glowing smile before looking over at Sara.

“Sara, how have you been? I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve talked.”

“You threw me that welcome back party, like, a week ago,” Sara says.

“Yeah, but before that you were in Metropolis for months. And before that, I don’t even know where you were,” Amaya counters, and Sara nods.

“You’re right, as usual.”

“So how have you been? Have you settled in okay? Is it weird being back in the city?”

“Tell her about Ava,” Zari says, and Sara shoots her a death glare.

“You’ve been talking to Ava?” Amaya asks incredulously.

“Not so much _talking to_ as _avoiding_ ,” Zari answers for her, and Sara rolls her eyes.

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about her.”

Amaya nods. “Just… be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” Sara says, and Amaya and Zari both give her a look.

“I’m serious. She really hurt you, Sara. I know you don’t like to admit it, but you, like, disappeared for almost a year after you guys broke up. And you still won’t tell us what happened.”

Sara shakes her head. “It’s fine. It’s not like we’re friends again or anything. And anyways, why are we talking about this? It’s your birthday! I want to drink.”

“You _always_ want to drink,” Amaya teases, but she’s already moving into the kitchen to get wine glasses. Nate, Ray, and Mick come out to sit next to each other onto the couch with stronger stuff, which Sara helps herself to, and they settle into their usual routine of laughter and bickering.

It’s almost midnight when they give Amaya their gifts, and Zari’s gift is so heartfelt that Sara swears Amaya tears up a little. They hug, and Zari looks happier than Sara’s ever seen her. The girl really is hopelessly in love, and Sara wishes things could somehow work out for her without breaking Nate’s heart too.

Nate got her a necklace, and Amaya rewards him with a kiss that makes Zari’s face fall, even though only Sara notices. Jax Facetimes them at almost 1 in the morning to let Amaya know he’s thinking about her and that there’s a gift in the mail for her. Ray’s already passed out on the couch, but the rest of the group drunkenly shouts at the phone how much they miss him and how unfair it is that he has to be so far for his fancy internship. It’s not too long after that that the party winds down. Sara and Zari are too drunk to drive, so Amaya directs them to her guest bed, where they collapse next to each other, fully clothed.

* * *

They go two and a half weeks without incident.

Two and a half blessed weeks.

And then she gets a card in the mail.

It takes her no time at all to march upstairs to the law firm, and she intimidates an intern into telling her where Ava’s office is. Ava’s at her desk, scribbling something into a file, and she jumps when Sara throws open the door.

“What the hell is this?” Sara demands.

“What is what?” Ava asks, almost exhaustedly, and Sara throws the card at her desk.

“We got invited to Rip’s wedding?”

Ava’s eyebrows raise, and Sara realizes that she wasn't expecting it either. It’s a simple invite. Elegant. Rip and Gideon’s names are in beautiful cursive. Ava pulls it out of the envelope to see it better, and a smaller card falls out with it. It’s the RSVP card, and both their names are on it. _Sara Lance and Ava Sharpe._ Ava’s expression shifts and Sara can’t read it.

“You never told him we broke up?” Sara accuses, and Ava narrows her eyes at her.

“Why would I? He was my old boss. We were never friends. I assumed you would tell him, if there was a need for it.”

Sara doesn’t have a comeback for that one, because she’s right. Ava’s relationship with Rip was strictly professional. It had been Sara who was friends with him, and when she went off the grid after their break up, she didn’t exactly broadcast the news to everyone she was falling out of touch with.

“So what do we do?” Sara asks. Ava puts the card down.

“Do you want to go to his wedding?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s my friend. Of course I want to go.”

“Then I suggest you RSVP,” Ava says, and her attention returns to the file in front of her, picking her pen back up.

“And what about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“Do you want to go?”

Ava pauses. “I wouldn’t want to prevent you from going to your friend’s wedding.”

“I would still go if you were there,” Sara says. “I don’t hate you, Ava.”

“Okay,” Ava says.

“So does that mean we’re going to a wedding?”

“Evidently so.” When Sara doesn’t leave, Ava puts down her pen again and looks up at her. “Is there something else you need?”

Sara pauses, then shakes her head. “No. I’m… sorry for yelling at you. The other day. A couple weeks ago. The last time we talked. That… it wasn’t fair to you.”

“You’re allowed to be angry with me,” Ava says, and she doesn’t quite meet Sara’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Sara repeats. She turns and is halfway out the door when she hears a response come from behind her.

“I’m sorry, too,” Ava says.


	2. trying not to look back

She and Ava don’t talk in the month leading up to the wedding except when Ava asks her how she’s planning on getting there and they book their plane tickets. They agree to split the cost of a rental car, and that’s the end of the conversation. Sara doesn’t know where they stand. She doesn’t know where she _wants_ them to be standing. She doesn’t know if she’s still angry. Whenever she thinks about Ava, she just gets _tired_. Zari tries to get her to open up by plying her with alcohol and tales of her own attempts to get Amaya to fall in love with her.

(“I told her that I love her and she told me that she loves me too and that she’s so glad we’re friends,” Zari says one night, and Sara laughs so hard her sides hurt until Zari pokes her and demands to know whose side she’s on.)

It’s all honestly… anticlimactic. They work in the same building, but hardly see each other. Sara spends all of her time either at the gym, asking her boss to give her more hours so she can afford her rent, or with Zari. Amaya’s more insistent that Sara open up about how the whole Ava thing is _actually_ making her feel, so Sara dodges her phone calls and knows that she’s making the same mistake she’s made since the breakup by distancing herself, but doesn’t have it in her to reach out.

The end of the month arrives, and rent is due. Sara checks her bank account before writing the check and winces at how much money she’s spending. Between rent and the plane ticket to Rip’s wedding and the rental car, she’s not going to have enough to cover groceries for the month. And Zari’s more lenient than she should be with the free drinks, but it doesn’t make up for the fact that the training job just isn’t paying enough.

It’s a blow to her ego to have to ask for help. It’s never been something she’s good at. But if she wants to get a wedding gift for Rip and Gideon, plus afford the hotel room she’s going to need, _plus_ be able to eat at all next month…

Sara groans and dials Zari’s number.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?”

“Hey, Z,” she starts, drawing out the ‘hey.’ She can practically hear Zari rolling her eyes over the phone.

“What do you need?”

Sara blows air out from between her lips. “I hate to do this. I’m paying my rent for the month and I’m not gonna have enough to cover the hotel for the wedding. Is there any way I could borrow some money just for a few weeks? I’ll pay you back, obviously.”

“I’m so sorry, I totally would but my boss cut back my hours and I really can’t right now. I’m sorry, Sara.”

“No worries. I’ll figure it out. Thanks, anyways.”

Except that Amaya and Nate are saving up to move into a bigger place and Mick’s worse with money than she is and Ray would get worried if she asked and Sara quickly realizes that she’s out of options.

(“Not _completely_ out,” Zari points out, and Sara just glares at her.)

And then the wedding is only a week away and Sara hasn’t figured it out but she’s meeting up with Ava to go to the airport. Suddenly seeing Ava is a much bigger concern than her financial woes.

Ava’s wearing a suit even to go to the airport, and it’s ridiculous and stuffy and it’s completely unfair how good she looks. Sara’s opted for an oversized sweatshirt and leggings, and they make an odd pair as Sara loads Ava’s suitcase into the trunk.

They don’t speak.

Sara drives, even though Ava’s always hated her driving. Ava doesn’t say anything.

(A memory surges to Sara’s brain of a roadtrip they took after they’d been dating for one year. She showed Ava the Grand Canyon and Ava had complained about her driving the entire tire. And yeah, maybe Sara drives a little fast, but that’s the _fun_ of it, and she’d been in the middle of explaining that when Ava kissed her, which was really unfair, because how was Sara supposed to win _any_ argument if that was Ava’s response. Sara shoves the memory down and wishes she could choose to forget things.)

They board the flight without issue. Ava gets the seat on the aisle so she can stretch out her legs, and Sara curls up against the window, tucking her feet under her and fully intending on sleeping the whole way. Her phone buzzes with a text from Amaya wishing her a safe flight, and she’s out almost before they take off.

_Ava’s kissing her jaw, lazy and light, just grazing her lips against her skin. It’s somewhere between a dream and a memory and Sara is overwhelmed and peaceful and happy and aching all at once._

_“Good morning,” Ava murmurs, her lips brushing against Sara’s skin with the words, and Sara can feel the smile on her face as she looks over at her. Ava props herself up on one elbow, and Sara can hardly breathe._

_“Good morning, beautiful,” she responds, and Ava blushes pink and beautiful and Sara can’t look away. The sunlight is gold as it streams through their window and it makes Ava’s hair glow where it rests messily around her shoulders. “I missed you,” she says, and it’s true. Ava’s been gone for so long, she can feel it in the way her chest tightens when she looks at her. Her hand drifts up to touch Ava’s face, her fingertips brushing over high cheekbones, soft skin. Ava turns her face into Sara’s touch, kisses her palm._

_“You’re ridiculous, Lance,” she hums. “I was only gone for two weeks.”_

_“A lifetime,” Sara tells her dramatically, and that’s right. A business trip. She was out of town consulting someone for one of her cases; Sara can’t remember the details. Ava rolls her eyes and leans in to kiss her, and Sara’s chest tightens, her mouth full of words that she has to get out now, has to say while she can. She pulls back, and Ava frowns, and Sara shouldn’t feel like crying, because that’s not how this moment goes._

_“I love you,” she says, and Ava laughs._

_“I know.”_

_“No,” Sara protests, and it’s important that Ava knows this, that she really knows. “I love you. I-I love you.”_

_“Sara,” Ava says seriously. “I know. Is everything okay?”_

_She doesn’t know why, but it’s not. It’s very much not. “Ave-”_

_“You’re not enough for her, Sara,” comes a voice from behind her, and Sara whips around in bed to see another person with them._

_“Nyssa,” she breathes out, and it’s like she’s been punched in the throat. Nyssa looks at her with dark, beautiful eyes and Sara is afraid to touch her for fear that she’ll disappear._

_“You’re not enough,” she repeats, and Sara flinches at her tone. “You gave up on me. You couldn’t save Laurel. You couldn’t save your father.” Sara’s breath comes out as a harsh exhale, and her vision swims. Nyssa doesn’t react. “You just weren’t enough.”_

_“That’s not true,” she protests weakly, and Ava laughs from behind her, a hard, ugly sound._

_“God, how did you put up with her?” Sara turns back, and Ava’s eyes are hard now. The light has shifted and it cuts angular shadows into her face. “Pretty Sara, why do you think I left?”_

_This isn’t right. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go._

_And then the one face she really can’t handle seeing now. “Sara.”_

_“Laurel,” she chokes out, and her sister is standing in front of them, leaning back against the dresser with her arms crossed. Her face is still bright and sunny. It’s like she was never sick._

_“Sara, I need you to help me.”_

_“Laurel,” Sara repeats, and her voice breaks with desperation. “You’re dead. You died. I couldn’t… I…”_

_“We just have to find the right doctor,” Laurel says. “That’s what you said, Sara. You said you wouldn’t let me die. Please. I need you.” Tears are spilling down Sara’s cheeks, hot and uncontrollable. “Sara, I’m so scared.”_

_“Laurel,” Sara repeats._

_“It’s time to wake up now, Sara,” Ava says from beside her, but Laurel’s alive and Nyssa’s alive and they all hate her and-_

“Sara. Wake up.” Sara startles awake and Ava pulls her hand back from her shoulder. She’s aware that she’s hyperventilating, but she really can’t stop. Her vision swims with tears and she struggles to breathe deeply enough to not feel like she’s drowning. Ava frowns in concern. “What’s happening?” Sara can’t answer. She tries to focus on slowing her breath.

Ava’s hand moves to her back, rubbing it soothingly, and Sara focuses on her touch until she can compose herself again. “Uh, sorry,” she manages. “Bad dream.” Ava withdraws her hand.

“Um. Do you want to talk about it?” Ava looks as uncomfortable as Sara feels, and she shakes her head.

“I’m good.”

“Okay.” Ava’s still frowning at her, but Sara ignores it in favor of looking out the window as they land. Some of her hair has fallen loose from her French braid in her sleep, and while they wait for the plane to stop moving so they can disembark, she redoes it, pulling the strands back into place. She can feel Ava’s eyes on her.

They get their luggage and Ava handles the rental car. She doesn’t ask if Sara wants to drive, just slides into the driver’s seat and then looks at her. “Do you want to go to the hotel first or get dinner?”

Sara tries not to visibly wince at the thought of the hotel she still hasn’t booked because she still doesn’t have the funds for it. The car is comfy enough, she thinks, and if she can get Ava to leave the car with her for the night, she can get away with sleeping in it for the week without her knowing. “Let’s get dinner,” she says, and Ava nods.

“Are you hungry for anything specific?”

“You can pick,” Sara mumbles, and Ava looks at her for a long beat. Sara knows it’s weird that she’s letting Ava pick – Ava’s been a vegeterian for years and Sara _never_ let her choose where they were eating, always claiming that Ava would probably pick some hipster vegan place with nothing actually edible – but she really doesn’t want to be responsible for thinking right now. She’s exhausted, tired of feeling guilty over Laurel and Nyssa and Ava and her father, tired of fighting with Ava, tired of avoiding her friends, tired of stressing over how to make ends meet. She leans her head against the window of the car and Ava drives out of the parking lot and drives until she finds someplace suitable.

“Someplace suitable” turns out to be a steakhouse, a choice which surprises Sara until she realizes that Ava’s being nice to her since she’s clearly not herself. Ava orders a salad, which she picks at, and they sit with their food in uncomfortable silence until Sara breaks it.

“What are we?”

Ava almost chokes on a leaf. “Excuse me?”

Sara rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to spend this whole trip just… being silent next to you. This is Rip’s wedding. I want to have fun. And I’m _so tired_ of not knowing how to act around you and of being angry. I don’t want to be angry anymore, Ava.”

“Is it too late for this to just be normal?” Ava looks down at her salad. “I know I… I know it won’t go back to what it was. I don’t want that. I just…” She swallows. “We were good as friends, right?”

“Once you got past hating me?” Sara quips, and she smiles a little so Ava knows it’s a joke.

“Oh, please, like you didn’t hate me, too,” Ava teases. “I just want to be friends.”

“That’s all I want, too,” Sara says, and she swallows back her guilt and her failures and the fact that she’s destroyed every good thing in her life, and she forces a brighter smile for the woman across from her.

* * *

The rest of dinner passes uneventfully. They make small talk, each careful to avoid talking about anything that might have happened in the two years they’ve been apart, which mostly means Sara talks about what working at the gym is like and Ava talks about the case that she’s been working on, and Sara starts to feel like maybe she can actually do this. It’s not the comfortable conversation they used to have – they’re still stiff and awkward around each other, and dance uncomfortably around deeper topics – but it’s progress.

Ava gives her the keys to drive and the directions to her hotel, and Sara dutifully drops her off and offers to carry her suitcase up. “Are you gonna want the car before we meet up with everyone?” Sara asks. Rip had texted her before they left saying they would do a big group lunch once everyone had arrived and settled in. Ava shakes her head.

“It’s all yours.”

“Cool,” Sara says. “So, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Ava nods, and Sara heads back down to the car. Ava’s window faces the parking lot and Sara can just make out her silhouette watching to make sure that she gets to the car safely. Sara finds it incredibly unfair that Ava could have left her like she did and still care this much. At the same time her soul aches at the thought that she had ever had someone who loved her that much and she lost it.

She drives aimlessly for a while, shoots off a text to Rip to let him know they made it safely. It’s an hour of driving before she realizes she really has nowhere to go, so she finds her way back to Ava’s hotel and parks. She puts the driver seat all the way down, unbuckles her seatbelt so she can lay down more comfortably, and falls asleep.

* * *

The combination of a knocking sound and something jamming into her thigh wakes her up. With a groan, Sara jolts back to life, shoving her leg further against whatever is there.

“Fuck,” she mutters, rubbing her eyes. She’s rolled onto the gear shift in her sleep, which she’s sure has left a bruise on her leg. There’s still a rapping on her window, and she turns to squint at whoever is trying to wake her up.

She’s not sure who else she expected.

“Sara,” Ava says, her voice muffled through the glass, and Sara opens the door just enough to talk to her, not so much that it pushes her out of the way.

“Morning.”

“Sara, did you sleep here last night?”

Sara hesitates, considers lying. Her mind whirs trying to figure out an explanation that would make sense. “Yeah.” It’s too early. Ava looks more confused than anything. She looks just as composed as she did yesterday, wearing another crisp white button down with black pants. She’s left the blazer off this time, and she’s stunning. Sara slumps back against the seat. “It’s 8:00 am. Why are you up and leaving the room anyways? I thought you didn’t need the car until lunch.”

“There’s a Starbucks across the street. I was getting coffee. Why are you sleeping in the rental car?”

Sara exhales heavily. “I didn’t get a hotel room.”

“What? Sara, we’ve known about this for over a month. Did you forget? Why wouldn’t you-”

“It’s just a tight month, money-wise,” Sara interrupts. “I just got back in town three months ago and working at the gym for three months hasn’t exactly built my fortune yet. It’s fine, though. But I can’t get a hotel for a week for no reason.”

Ava just looks at her.

“It’s fine, seriously. I slept well.” Sara stretches her arms up, sparks of pain shooting up her back in protest.

“Did you really think I just… wouldn’t notice? How were you going to explain never taking your suitcase out of the trunk? Of all the insane plans you’ve had…” Ava presses her lips together. “Come on.”

Sara frowns at her. “What?” Ava’s in motion, opening the trunk and disappearing from Sara’s view. Sara slips out of the car, shutting the door behind her and moving to see Ava grabbing her suitcase. “What are you doing?”

“You’re obviously not spending the rest of the week in the car, Sara. That would be ridiculous. Besides, whatever you’re wearing to the wedding will wrinkle if you keep it folded. Let’s go. You’re sharing my room.” She strides off towards the building. Sara locks the car and runs to catch up.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but… what? It’s nice, but I really can’t afford to split-” She’s cut off by Ava frowning at her.

“I’m not asking you to pay for anything.” Sara follows her into the elevator.

“I can’t just-”

“I was planning on paying for the whole room anyways. I’m not making you sleep in the car.” Ava leads them down the hall to her door, tugging out her wallet to get the key card and letting them both in. “You can unpack while I go back to Starbucks. Do you want anything?”

“Thank you,” Sara responds, and Ava sweeps back out of the room.

It’s when Sara’s hanging her clothes in the closet that she realizes two things.

The first is that Ava really needs to switch up her outfits, having apparently re-devoted herself to wearing exclusively black blazers and white button downs after the break up. At one point, Sara had gotten her to at least diversify her options. Now, all color had apparently been scrubbed from her wardrobe.

(“Do you even own anything remotely informal?” Sara had teased one night, watching Ava let her hair down and take off her jacket before settling next to her on the couch.

“Oh, please, you don’t seem to mind,” Ava had answered, smirking at her before tugging her in for a deep kiss.)

The second is that the room has one bed. This makes sense, as Ava obviously was only getting a room for herself, but that doesn’t stop Sara’s mind from going places they _really, really_ shouldn’t. She moves to sit on the bed, picking up one of the pillows and hugging it to her stomach. It smells vaguely of Ava’s shampoo, and Sara allows herself a minute to remember when coming home to Ava was something she took for granted.

Everything was so easy then. The simple act of wrapping an arm around her to hold her closer, kissing her shoulder, pressing cold feet against her shins and falling asleep wrapped up in each other, waking up to her and not having to wonder if she was loved, if Ava would stay.

It hits her like a punch to the gut and it takes Sara a grand total of two minutes to decide to call Amaya.

Amaya picks up instantly, and Sara is _such_ a bad friend.

“I’m sorry,” she says, the words barely an exhale.

“Sara? Are you okay? What’s going on? Do you need me to come get you?”

Amaya’s instant concern is so _kind_ and so _her_ and Sara can’t breathe. “No,” she manages. “No, I’m fine. I just…” She fumbles for the words, and Amaya waits. “I love you so much, and I’ve been such a terrible friend to you, and I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Amaya says automatically, and Sara’s heart clenches. “It’s okay, hey. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Sara laughs shakily. “God, so much. Nothing. I don’t know.” She pushes a hand back through her hair. “We dated for _four years_ and she just left and I… I don’t know. I just acted like it didn’t happen and I left you guys, I left you _all_ for so long and that wasn’t fair to you. And even now that I’m back, like, how many times have I made an effort to see you guys? It’s not fair, you guys deserve so much better, and I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Amaya’s voice is understanding and soothing, and Sara tries not to cry. “We all know what’s going on, even when you won’t tell us. No one blames you for being hurt and needing time for yourself. I promise you, Sara, none of us are mad at you. At all. We all love you so much. We just want you to be okay.”

“I am. I thought I was. I-I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk about it? You disappeared for a long time after everything happened that year. You didn’t talk to any of us. We just want to know what’s going on. We want you to know that we’re here for you.”

“I know. I know. You’re… you’re the best, Amaya. I just… It’s hard to talk about.”

“I know,” Amaya reassures her. “And you don’t have to now. But how about when you get back we get together and talk? I’ve missed you, Sara. We all have.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Sara admits. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk when I get home.” They end the call, and Sara pulls herself back together enough to go back to putting her clothes up in the closet.

Ava returns with Starbucks shortly thereafter, juggling two cups and her key card even though Sara didn’t technically ask for it. Sara takes a grateful sip from the cup and hums as the caffeine hits her system. It’s Sara’s exact order, and she doesn’t comment on how Ava remembered.

“Thank you,” is what she does say, and Ava gives her a smile.

“I’ve got to make some calls for work, but you’re welcome to hang out until it’s time to go,” she tells Sara.

“I’m going to take a nap, since _someone_ decided eight o’clock in morning is a reasonable hour to be alive at,” Sara shoots back, and Ava scoffs.

“Most normal humans are up at eight. It’s not even that early.”

(“Too early,” Sara had moaned on more than one occasion, hugging Ava tighter to prevent her from getting up. Ava would always shut off her alarm, turn to face her, and make her case for why she had to go to work. Sara would just snuggle closer to her and claim that she needed Ava for body warmth. Ava would very often be persuaded to stay in bed for an extra half hour.)

“Waking another human up against their will before ten is sadistic and an act of torture,” Sara declares, laying down on the bed and tugging the sheets up to her chin. “Wake me up for lunch.”

Ava rolls her eyes but doesn’t respond, instead pulling her laptop out and getting to work. She gets on a call, presumably with another lawyer at her firm, and Sara listens for a bit before Ava’s calm, even voice puts her to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh i'm not the hugest fan of this chapter buuuuuuuuut it's been a million years since i updated this and i found a bunch of stuff for it when i was cleaning up my files the other day and remembered it and thought i should keep going with it so i can get to the stuff that i actually have already written. anyways. hmu on tumblr @aeryns.

**Author's Note:**

> hey this is just a lot of build up rn but eventually they. interact for more than twenty seconds at a time i promise. anyways hmu on tumblr at agtavasharpe !


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